Dream's Intuition

Chapter 1 - Falling Rain

CHAPTER 1

There is something therapeutic about watching the rain fall.  Thousands of droplets of water invade the earth, banding together to create pools on the ground beneath our feet.  I watch from the comfort of my bus seat as those stuck out in the rain run for cover; while it is only water, the very thought of it touching our skins puts us into a quickened step or a light trot.  You have the women that run around in spiked heels who take an hour to move two feet, in the name of fashion most become soaked before they find shelter.  The teenage boys never seem to mind, they throw their oversized hoodies over their mops which they call hair and continue on their way, the gloomy weather matching their somber mood.  Back rounded, shoulders curbed forward and the only part of their face that you can see is a grimace.  

The rain thickens and streaks out visibility from my large, plastic window.  The figures on the street begin to blur into shapes and are unrecognizable as human.  It looks like the streets have been overtaken by dark shadows.  A shiver rolls down my spine.

I turn my attention the back of the head in front of me.  The woman has long, pumpkin orange, straw hair.  What I wouldn’t give for a pair of scissors to reach forward and rid her of that mess; however I am sure she does not feel the same way about her hair that I do.  I reach forward and finger a piece, I twist it between my index and thumb, I envision it shattering like glass falling on ceramic tiles as I tighten my grip.  I let go.  There is an older woman sitting across the way.  She is talking to herself, not loud enough for me to hear, but mumbling all the while with a smile on her face as she bops her head.  At least someone is enjoying their ride.  Around me sit the misfits and youth that this town has to offer.  

“I’m going to do it!” I announce as I slam the front door to my less then befitting apartment.

“Do what?”

My roommate pops her head out of the bathroom, she is primping; however she is always primping or grooming or doing something that involves the bathroom mirror.  The lights have been replaced ten times in that room, and we have only been living in this apartment 4 months.

“Kill myself, you know slit my wrists, I think that would be a tasteful way to go, that way I can realize what a pathetic fool I am just before I die.”  I throw my body down onto the couch.  The cushions sag underneath my weight.

“That would be painful, and ugly, also if you do it wrong your scarred for life… literally.”  Kay was used to my rants, raves and death threats.  She had come to the capability to shrug it off as if I had just said “I want steak for dinner.”  They were an every day occurrence, perhaps I may be a tad mellow dramatic.  When one lives in a small Northern Ontario community their life experiences tend to be minimal and one has to create their own, imaginary or real.  

        Calling Sudbury small is a tad overstatement, there are enough people here and there are enough stores, bars, grocery stores, and restaurants for one to gorge their need for buying to the consumerist ideals that larger society dictates.  I must admit, I do partake in adding to the consumerist notion in some regards, the majority of my pay checks are spent towards clothes, make up, shoes and partying; a product of my environment.  There are some benefits to Northern Ontario, we have snow and enough of it to enjoy winter sports.  There is a probability of frostbite when you are playing ice hockey outdoor, and you can always see your breath whirls in white puffs in front of your face.  When I was younger I would take a small snap of a branch and hold to my mouth and pretend to be smoking.  In the summer it does become quite balmy and there are beaches for swimming and improving ones tan.

“So what are you feeding me?”  Kay hung over me as I lay stretched out on my bed.  I am the cook; I can cook which is something I am proud to state.

“What do you want and what do we have?”

“Ummm…I think we have some pasta.”

“Then I’ll make pasta.”

There is something relaxing when it comes to cooking.  You can tune out the rest of the world for about an hour and nothing matters but satisfying that pain in your gut.  I took a big pot out of our cupboard and filled it half way with water which I placed on the stove top, it hissed into action.  I cut up some tomatoes, added oregano, bay leaves and put that in another pot with some water.  There is a rhythm to cooking once one becomes well adjusted to the kitchen.  Everything has a place and moving about it the space would be just as easy with your eyes closed.  The kitchen is my sanctuary, it is the one place where my brain stops spinning in circles and relaxes, letting reaction take over.

After dinner I cleaned the dishes and flopped down on the couch to watch some TV, it was one of the few luxuries, I had convinced Kay we needed cable!  I had insisted that it would cut back on other costs as we would not go to the movies but watch what was on TV and instead of going out we could chill in front of the TV and had multiple girl nights.  Kay was not much of a TV nut, but she had still folded.  She still went out almost every night of the week, but I was saving money, as least that is what I told myself as I watched myself decay into a couch potato.  There is nothing ever on, it is all just reality shows and game shows, which are not all that interesting, simply putting people in ridiculous circumstances and watching them crack and demonstrate a horrible side of themselves all in the name of ratings; human fallibility come through.  For this reason, I usually spend my time in front of the TV catching up on sleep.

Tonight would be no different then any other night.  There was nothing on TV to watch, but I still sat in front of it, switching the channels every five seconds without even enough time to catch a full sentence or recognize what was in front of me, technically there could have been something worth watching on TV but I was going by it too fast to notice.  

Around 10:30 Kay left to go out, she might have had a date, but I wasn’t really to sure, she might have been meeting a friend for coffee or going to work.  It was windy and cold outside, and the draft from the open window pulled the door shut with a slam.  I got up to close the window, the apartment was freezing.  Kay was always warm and I was always cold.  The wind howled outside in anger, longing to take revenge on those protected inside their walls of brick.  The night air was filled with gloom as the rain poured down all around.  I shut the window and through the water logged panes I could see Kay’s car lights blink on, and her engine revved as she drove away into the darkness.  For the second time that day, nature sent a shiver down my spine.  

I pulled the blinds tight and proceed to turn some lights on to push away my fears.  I hated being alone on nights like this.  I hated rain and I hated storms; branches scratching on my window and the night sounds accompanying it.  However I had solace in the lighted rooms of my apartment away from the rain and the night.  I grabbed my throw off of my bed and brought it into the living room to curl up with on the couch.  I put on my favourite childhood movie and watched.  While my fairy tale ending had not come, watching someone else’s always made me feel better.